


we're not living the good life

by Chicaroscuro



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: why isn't there a Jeff tag already?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:47:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chicaroscuro/pseuds/Chicaroscuro
Summary: It's a while before Jeff sees Michael again. But sooner or later, that demon always manages to make things interesting.





	we're not living the good life

**Author's Note:**

> (unless we're fighting the good fight - you and me, it's time to get it right. (...) every day we wake up we choose love, we choose light, [and we try.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oV9NLtZBhL4))
> 
> hey let's churn out a fanfic about these two before canon happens, wooo

Why did he do it?

He's evaded consequences. The Judge didn't see what he did. She didn't bother to review it with that omniscience of hers. She just believes Jeff, when he claims that Michael snatched the key out of his hands and ran for it. Even by demonic standards, Michael's a criminal. Who would question his willingness to go so far?

If they'd seen what really happened, the way Michael just stood there - in arm's reach of the key - and didn't even glance at it, just looked at  _Jeff_...

Maybe he should feel bad about lying. He doesn't. Michael was already condemned, a fugitive from the Bad Place  _and_ the Neutral Zone; things can't exactly get any worse for him. Surely he wouldn't begrudge Jeff for protecting himself. It didn't even get him anything: just the chance to keep on sitting at his desk, working his now-pointless job.

The void is silent again. The Judge stormed off to her chambers after failing to get the door open, and no one's come back down here since. He can't hear the echoes of Trevor's screams anymore. Jeff spent a few minutes craning his neck to try and see where the guy ended up, but he flew way too far out into the black. If he really wanted to, he could get up and actually go looking. He doesn't. He knew Trevor for all of a couple minutes, just the time it took him to present his fake papers, but he crammed as much dickishness into that short time as possible. Real talented demon. It had been almost like a return to normal.

Time passes. Jeff drinks the last of his hazelnut antimatter slowly, savoring it just a tiny sip at a time. Even so, eventually he drains the last of it. Nobody comes to bring him more.

He leans back in his chair, rolling the empty frog cup between his palms as he stares out into the endless void. How long has it been now since anyone came? Will anyone ever come again? There's no reason for them to, now that travel to Earth's impossible. It might've been the only thing about this that he regretted. But visitors have always been a very rare thing, and the only one who ever really stopped to talk with him was, well.

He doesn't regret it.

It's actually sort of funny. All sorts of people have passed through here before: members of the demonic high council, angelic authorities, the Judge herself. They were all the same as far as he was concerned. And then there was one weird demon, making dorky attempts at jokes, bursting to tell someone about all of Earth's little mundanities. At first, Jeff had found it a little irritating. It was hard to relate to that kind of energy, the way Michael bounced on his heels and gestured as he'd describe his latest encounter with buses or hair extensions. But he'd quickly gotten to look forward to it. Michael always asked after him, too. He'd clasp Jeff's hand in his as he returned the key fob -  _I'm sure this is the last time, see you around -_ even though he'd always, always return later.

There were so many stamps on those papers. Maybe Jeff had let some things pass he shouldn't have. No one could prove it - no one else seemed to see Michael in quite the same light as Jeff, they didn't even suspect that he might have _wanted_ him around.

If Jeff hadn't helped him escape, he'd have been hauled off and retired. That's why he did it. Jeff would have had to sit here alone and know that he was torn apart and burning, and absolutely  _never_ coming back.

He's still never coming back, of course. That'd be a real dumbass move. But at least Jeff gets to pass some time speculating about what Michael and his Janet are getting up to down there. Are they still orbiting those four humans, interfering to try and get them over the point threshold? Or did they just drop the act and go meet with them face-to-face? Now that they have all the time in the world down there, did they actually stop and visit one of those Pizza Hut/Taco Bell monstrosities? 

Creativity has never been his strong suit. He's meant to sit and watch a door; that's all. But he sits and wonders about what might be, and thinks that he could pass a century or so with just that.

 

* * *

 

Well before one passes, the door creaks. Jeff looks up sharply, setting his cup down hard. But of course there's only one person who can open it now - Michael pokes his head through, peering one way and then the other before his gaze settles on Jeff. His smile is as bright as Jeff remembers."Hey, buddy!"

"You shouldn't be back here." Jeff stands, looking to his right. The bridge is long and well-lit; he can see people approaching from really far off, when he bothers to pay attention. It's empty for now. "The Judge is  _pissed_. She's gotta be watching the monitors."

"Oh, that's alright, I'm not coming through." Michael opens the door more, leaning his long body against the frame. He doesn't step past the threshold, and despite his casual posture, his hand is still tight around the doorknob. Even Jeff, close as he is, couldn't get there faster than he could slam it shut. "I figured things would've calmed down some by now, so I wanted to see if you were still here. Thought I might've gotten you in trouble."

"No, I'm fine. Just threw you under the bus."

Michael lets out a half-surprised laugh. "Really? Yeah, I guess that's fair."

Jeff comes closer, standing between the door and the bridge, and lowers his voice. "Listen, I appreciate the concern or whatever, but you should  _really_  go. Things might be calm here specifically, but you've still got a lotta folks looking for you."

"Yeah, yeah yeah yeah." Michael waves a hand nonchalantly, as if he isn't the most wanted man in the entire afterlife. Maybe he's just used to it. "But first - you got a minute? As long as I've found you, I've actually got something I want you to see."

Jeff huffs. Arguing with Michael is likely to keep him here longer than just going along with it. The guy's obviously a persistent sort. "Fine, what is it?"

Michael steps back and sweeps his hand to the side, raising his eyebrows in clear invitation. The light of the doorway beams out from behind him, casting their shadows boldly against the dark metal platform. It reminds Jeff, all at once, of old human religious art he's seen, Michael's bone-white hair all alight and radiant.

He pushes that particular thought out of his head immediately. "You want me to come to _Earth_?" Jeff's voice is flat, despite the sudden beating of his heart. He'd been bored, he'd wanted  _something_ to happen, but this? "That would definitely get me caught. No offense, but I don't wanna get stuck in there with you."

"It's  _really_ not that bad. Mostly." Michael frowns a little, and corrects himself to, "You get used to it. Anyway, it's only for a minute, you won't get stuck. Nobody's noticed I'm here  _yet,_ have they?"

He inclines his head, and Jeff follows his gaze down the bridge, all the way down to where it vanishes beyond human sight. It's still empty. Now that he thinks about it, it  _did_ take the Judge a long time and a lot of illegal trips to realize what was going on. Part of his job was to be the last line of defense against things like that, but ultimately, he's under her authority; she should have been paying more attention. He knows it, she knows it, and she knows that  _he_ knows it. That's part of why she was so angry - and even after all that, she's still not watching very closely.

"Come on," Michael wheedles, sounding for once like an actual demon. "You're not gonna get another break for, what, eight thousand years? You gotta live a little!"

Jeff frowns at his desk. There's nothing there, save for his empty frog cup and the nameplate that doesn't even have his  _actual name_ on it. Thousands of years he's been here, and the Judge couldn't even engrave "Jeff" on a piece of metal.

"...fine. But it had better be quick."

Michael grins and opens the door wide. There's a world of possibilities over there: mortal, mundane, novel possibilities. Jeff only hesitates for a second before stepping through.

 

* * *

  

On the other side, Jeff's form settles into a dull physicality. Their bodies are meant to mimic human ones in form more than function. It's only here that you get the idea of how humans must really feel. It's slow and fleshy, like he's  _made_ of this body instead of just using it a while. He knew to expect it this time, but it's still a little disorienting.

Michael's hands are on his shoulders. Even that physical sensation feels strangely immediate, though Jeff barely remembers anyone else touching him well enough to draw a comparison. "Like I said," he says in an undertone, "you'll get used to it. Just remember to keep breathing, that part's important."

Jeff nods, looking around. There's a tall tree arching above them. The sight's exciting at first, but it looks plastic, unnaturally bright green leaves spreading out beneath electric lights. The moss creeping up the walls is visibly glued there, and the hoots and caws echoing through the air sound tinny. "What is this?"

"Welcome!" Michael grins and spins on his heel, throwing his arms wide, "To the Rainforest Cafe!"

Behind him, a human woman scurries past with two children, casting them a strange look.

"It's a restaurant! Here, come on, come on." Michael leads the way after the humans. Jeff follows, doubtful. The lobby they enter has even more of that faux-nature theme, right down to plastic animals hanging out on the walls. Elephants, monkeys, a crocodile...Jeff knows the names for all of them, can recognize them, even though he's never actually seen them before. The only animal he's ever seen in person is - well, a frog, once.

There's a lot of humans in here, milling around and talking to each other. This is the first time he's seeing  _those_ in person, too. It feels faintly ridiculous, to work in the human afterlife and not ever see any humans. Everything revolves around them. But that's just how his job is. Deceased humans have no business going near the door, and he has none going anywhere that isn't the door. Well, obviously that's right out.

Even so, the rules are still circling around in his head. Don't go to Earth without permission, blend in, don't interfere. But he's already here, and it's hard not to look at them. They're...small, he thinks, when you get right down to it. Or maybe the word is fragile. 

With a shout, two tiny humans rush past. Jeff jerks in surprise; Michael doesn't, and one runs right into him. "Woah, hey." He reaches out to steady the child for a second, like touching humans is just routine. "Watch it, kid." 

As the boy runs off, Jeff looks around again. Some of the adult humans are looking at them now. He can't read the expressions on their faces, or see their feelings spread colorfully out in the sixth dimension anymore. "I don't think we're blending in very well," he hisses, pressing closer to Michael so he can be heard. He's still in uniform, and Michael's wearing a dark blue suit with a pink-striped tie. None of the humans look so formal. Plus, he's sure he, at least, is doing _something_ weird. "Why exactly are we - "

They round another corner, and he sees. The human children are gathered in a small, loose group around another human, for what seems like an obvious reason. Jeff, without thinking, grabs Michael's arm. "That guy's wearing a  _treefrog_ costume!"

Michael nods vigorously. "I know!"

"That's so  _cool!"_

"I  _know!"_

"They're taking pictures with him. Do we get to do that?"

Michael pats the hand that's clutching his arm, warmly enough that Jeff doesn't even feel the need to remove it. "We  _absolutely_ get to do that, and no one can stop us."

Indeed, nobody can! Jeff sees, from the corner of his eye, a few people looking at him strangely as he takes several pictures with the frog man. But Michael's smile is wide and bright as he snaps the photos with his phone, and blending in doesn't seem quite so urgent.

When it's over, Michael gets a different, non-frog human to escort them to a table. With a charming smile, he even manages to get them one next to a tank full of fish. Jeff can't help but be a little impressed, both by the fish darting about in little flashes of jewel-tones, and by Michael's ease at navigating everything."You've really gotten comfortable here, huh?" he asks, after the server has left to retrieve the drinks Michael ordered. "I wasn't sure how it would go. Everyone I've ever seen go to Earth says that it's really different."

"Oh, it was." Michael folds his hands together, leaning forward. "I'm glad I had Janet with me, or I might've lost it. But we've settled in with our humans now, and things are going alright."

"Those humans you kept going back to mess with." Jeff knows what was in the paperwork: there were four of them, who had been sentenced to the Bad Place and then had their deaths undone for some reason. That's about it. Understanding the background of cases wasn't considered necessary for him to do his job. "What's the deal with them, anyway?"

"It's a long story. I was supposed to be working up this great new torture for them - I actually tried that for a really long time. Had this whole scheme cooked up, all these big plans..." Michael's lips quirk into a small smile. Had he really been that high-ranking, once? It's hard to imagine him as a Bad Place architect, especially when the look in his eyes can be that soft. "But they're my friends now. Even after I saved their lives, I couldn't just  _leave_  them here to their own devices. They're too important for that."

Jeff nods. "I see." He doesn't. He's never seen anybody speak about humans - about  _anyone_  - with that kind of unmistakable tenderness. It makes him want to understand.

"I wanted to thank you for helping me, and them. I know a lunch isn't a big deal, but it'll be quick. And they've got a gift shop here, too." Michael grins, reaching out to take one of the menus. "You're gonna love it. Any idea what you want?"

"Haven't had much human food before," Jeff admits. It's another one of those things where he recognizes the names, and has no real context.

Michael nods. He probably get it; there's demons with non-human-facing jobs too. "Most of the food we have back home is garbage. Not that this is exactly a five-star restaurant - oh,  _thank you._ " He grins winningly at the waitress returning with their drinks. It's hard to tell, but Jeff thinks she's young for a human. She seems dully resigned to people insulting her workplace. "We'll have two Rainforest Burgers."

As she leaves, he focuses back on Jeff. "So how have you been? Anything interesting happening? Sounds like I kicked up a pretty big fuss."

"Yeah. Haven't seen much of it myself." Jeff shrugs. "You know my job's just to sit there and watch the door. Judge said she was gonna try to find another way in, but I haven't seen her since."

Michael hums in the back of his throat. "I'll deal with that when it happens, I guess. You know, I would've thought you'd get reassigned, now that the door doesn't open. Doesn't seem like there's much point to you sitting there."

"You'd think."

A short silence follows. Jeff isn't used to talking to people at length. That fact doesn't bother him. It's just the way things are. He can't think of anything to say, and so he doesn't, just turns to watch a blue fish nibbling on a piece of water-plant near his head. Michael watches him, his hands folded together and his blue eyes contemplative.

"So," he says finally, clapping his hands together once like he's making a pronouncement. "What was the most exciting thing that happened for you before this whole thing? You're the doorman, you must've seen some stuff."

"This angel," Jeff answers immediately, "About seven hundred years ago. It was the middle of the Black Death, so the Judge let a few people go down to see if all the humans were gonna die, or what." 

"I didn't know they'd done that!" Michael leans back, faintly scandalized. "I was still working in Parasitic Larvae back then. That was a really busy time, we could barely get the giant wasp eggs into people fast enough." The waitress sets their burgers down then, so fast that they nearly slide off the buns. Michael smiles after her as she hurries away, until she ducks around a corner out of sight. He doesn't look worried; it's probably fine.

"Judge keeps that stuff quiet." Jeff watches Michael squirt ketchup onto his plate, and imitates him when he hands the bottle over. "Especially around Bad Place types. She never sent any demons down there alone before you. Didn't trust 'em. I guess she thought you were a weird one."

"I get that a lot."

"I  _bet_ you do." Michael chuckles, and Jeff allows a small smile. "Anyway, angel goes down to check stuff out, comes back after a few hours covered in mud, yelling about the peasantry. Never found out exactly what happened, but he had a frog sitting on his head."

Michael makes an excited noise around a mouthful of burger. "Oh, is that why you're so into frogs? You actually got a  _live_ one!"

"Yeah! Oh, he was  _great!_ I had to put him back through the door eventually, but he had some _real_ energy." Jeff grins, remembering the one other bright spot in the monotonous centuries. That memory's the one thing that can always make him smile. "He'd croak, and he hopped around everywhere - really kept  _me_ hopping, keeping him from falling in the void."

That joke was no better than any of Michael's, which might be why Michael laughs appreciatively. "That's so neat! Geez, you're a rulebreaker, huh? How many people get to run into a real live animal?" 

"Yeah, I guess it might've been against the rules a little. Never told anybody about it." Jeff shrugs, pleased and embarrassed and not sure how to untangle that, and considers his own untouched burger. It's meat on bread. What do humans eat, cows? It's probably cow meat. He picks it up, suppresses a shudder at the juices that leak out onto his hands, and takes a bite.

It's  _weird._ He's eaten things before, sure, but never while being quite so physical himself. There's so much there - he's forced to chew through it. Antimatter just sort of  _goes._ When he swallows, it creeps its way down his throat. He stares wide-eyed at the rest of the burger until the feeling passes. Oh, that was disgusting. How is Michael enjoying this? Will he be offended if Jeff decides not to eat anything else, ever again?

"I know, right?" Michael asks, seeming to pick up on his conflict. "Just focus on the taste. You can't think too hard about the human digestive system. It's just a little bit gross - even for me, and most demons like that sort of thing. Not sure about you. You're not a demon, right?"

"No." Jeff wants to put the burger down and clean his hands. But he's trusted Michael this far. He ventures another bite. "Not an angel either. Doorman can't be a partisan job. Guess I'm more like the Judge than anybody." Thinking about that, it's easier to not dwell too much on the mechanics of what he's doing. The taste sensations are really different; if it's less convenient than antimatter, it's definitely a lot  _richer_ too. Almost more like some human emotion made more manifest than what he'd normally consider food. 

"Guess I'm not much of a demon myself now." Michael picks idly at his fries. "I always wanted to know what it felt like to be human, but...not  _this_ literally. It's fine, though. Things aren't bad here."

Jeff considers him. It's hard to see here; he's not sure what Michael's feeling, without any of his normal senses to go on. But that's part of it, isn't it - he  _doesn't_ look like a demon anymore. Before, even though he hadn't acted like one, he'd had that same edge to his aura as all of them. It was something like the edge of a sharp blade, or the feeling of being watched. The burst of feeling he'd seen from his frog, when the little guy nearly hopped himself right off the side of the bridge. With Michael, at least, his manner had softened it into something more like a coiled spring, but he was what he was.

And now?

"Humanity suits you," Jeff decides with a shrug. That edge of danger hadn't really seemed to fit Michael. If it did once, back when he'd been assigned an architect's job, well. Not really any of Jeff's concern. "You're right, it's not too bad here. Eating's okay." 

"You really think so?" Michael smiles. He doesn't need the ethereal light of a dimensional portal to glow.

Jeff smiles back, the expression strangely effortless. "Yeah. I do." 

Conversation comes easier after that. Jeff thinks he's getting the hang of it a little. He gets Michael to tell him the full story about the humans while they finish their food. It's definitely long, and ridiculous in just about the way he'd expect. Fondness bleeds through all of Michael's words. Maybe getting banished here was a good thing for him after all. There's certainly no place in the Bad Place for a demon like  _that,_ and no angel would ever allow themselves to be so foolish and close.

The gift shop is exactly the sort of tiny hellish thing Michael can still seem to enjoy. He laughs about all the plastic crap being sold and eggs Jeff on over all the frog merchandise, and pays for as many stupid little trinkets as they agree that Jeff can hide in his desk. By the time they leave, Jeff realizes that he's forgotten entirely to worry about how long he's been gone. He stopped thinking about that even before they sat down, didn't he? "You're a bad influence," he grumbles as Michael re-summons the door, though he can't summon much displeasure to put behind it.

"You know, I've heard that?" Michael opens the door and peers through it first. "No one in there. I think you're good. You sure you're gonna be okay?"

Is he? Today's the kind of thing that could sustain him for another thousand years, even if he never gets another visitor again. It's sort of sad to think that he might not have anything like it again, but - he shouldn't get used to things like this. "Yeah. I'll be fine. You?"

"Sure, sure." Michael slips his hands into his pockets and bounces a little on his toes. "You worry about yourself, I'll be fine.  _I_ don't have the Judge breathing down my neck."

"It's really not that bad."

Despite that, Jeff isn't exactly rushing forward to get back through the door. Michael draws in a breath through his teeth. "Tell you what. I'll come check on you in a little while, okay? Just to make sure things are cool, no more long field trips."

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely." Privately, Jeff thinks that it maybe wouldn't be so terrible. Maybe just  _one_ more long field trip? No, no, that's so risky. It's the sort of thing Michael would do - as fun as it is to let the demon lead him on these things, at the end of the day someone's got to be practical. "Just be careful. Same as this time. You see anything funny, just shut the door and stay over here."

"Of course." Michael opens the door and stands aside to let Jeff through, smiling a little oddly. "I'm a demon, Jeff. You think I just run around risking my neck like that all the time?"

Jeff raises his eyebrows. That's such a ridiculous lie, it barely even warrants a comment. "Bye, Michael." He steps back through, and the higher dimensions furl back into existence. Michael looks the exact same, limited by his human body, anchored firmly in their version of reality. Somehow, even through the extra layers of sight, It still suits him. "Good luck over there." 

"Same to you, buddy." Michael nods, and shuts the door, and is gone.

The void is still quiet. The bridge is still empty. Jeff goes back to his desk and starts to squirrel his new treasures away, into his desk where nobody's ever going to bother to look anyway. He'll look at them later one-by-one, rationing them out like a cup of antimatter. Or - he hesitates, a little plastic frog between his fingers. No, he doesn't need to do that. He knows there's going to be another visit. Doesn't know when, but if there's anyone he can trust to keep coming back...

He puts the plastic frog on his desk, next to the cup. Sitting back to look at them both, he can't help but smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Me: I wanna write about Jeff and Michael being friends, what could they do - OH WAIT THE DUMBEST POSSIBLE THING
> 
> also I think it sorta became a date


End file.
